


Presto

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Dark, Evil Jared Padalecki, Kidnapped Jensen Ackles, M/M, Magician Jared Padalecki, Open ended
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 07:22:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19421194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Stage Magician Jared Padalecki has waited a long time for someone like the man he picks from the audience, that night, as a volunteer.When he ties Jensen inside the box he’ll be using for his latest illusion, poor Jensen has no idea he’ll be in Jared’s clutches for a lot longer than it takes to finish the act.





	Presto

**Author's Note:**

> Never happened.
> 
> But a certain detective is on the case, so maybe there is hope for Jensen?

The doorbell rings twice more as Jared locks his basement door and climbs the stairs to the first floor.

He peers through the glass panel, sees a man in a shabby suit accompanied by a couple of the city’s finest, and opens up for them.

“Hi, can I help you?”

The man in the suit looks down at a tatter notebook and then squints back up at him. “Jared Padalecki?”

“Yes.”

“The magician, that’s right, sir, isn’t it?”

Jared lets himself blush. It still disarms people, lets them think _this is a small town kid done good, still remembers where he’s from though_.

“Well, sir, I’m really sorry to bother you like this, but see, a young man who helped you out the other night, during your stage show at the _Palermo_ , fact is, sir, he’s gone missing, and we’re interviewing everybody who saw him that evening.”

Jared looks shocked. “I’m very sorry to hear that. I remember him...Jensen, wasn’t it? He was a little embarrassed by all the attention, but he played along.”

The detective smiles. Then he rubs at his temple, looks back at the two uniformed officers, embarrassed.

“Would you mind, sir, if we could come in, and just ask you a few questions? See, my boss, he’s a stickler, alright. Dot the I’s, cross the T’s, I’m sure you know the type.”

Jared’s grin is genuine. If this is who they’ve assigned to Jensen’s case, then he absolutely has nothing to worry about.

Not that he did, anyway. Gil Grissom could drag an entire squad of CSIs through here and it wouldn’t change a damn thing.

He shows them in, makes them herbal tea, talks about the act (no, lieutenant, I’m afraid I can’t tell you how it was done, we have a strict code, you understand) and even signs an autograph for one of the officers’ kids.

And then he shows them out, gracious at their taking up his time.

Poor Jensen. Looks like he won’t be getting rescued after all.

++

When he calls out for a volunteer, the spotlight scans the audience, and he sees people nervously looking away, not wanting to be dragged up on stage.

The cute blonde is one of them, and Jared doesn’t look away when the spotlight moves on. 

He can’t. He is, without putting too fine a point on it, entranced.

This, this is the one he’s been waiting for.

He points at Jensen, and the spotlight moves back, and Jared announces he’s found his volunteer.

It takes a lot of persuasion, and crowd pressure, for Jensen to shuffle up onto the stage.

It’s a simple misdirection trick. Jared has a box, and he helps Jensen inside (he never ties his volunteers up, but tonight will be an exception) and fastens the pretty ribbons around Jensen’s wrists, ankles and another around his neck.

Not tight enough to be uncomfortable but tight enough that Jensen won’t escape.

Not now, not later.

He will never tell them how he does the trick, that there are two boxes, and a hidden floor panel that drops one box down and brings up the other which he opens up and shows to be empty and the crowd applauds.

Jared moves on so quickly that nobody really notices he never produces Jensen again, and he came alone, so there is no one, at the end of the night, to come up and enquire as to his whereabouts.

Jared has no fear that Jensen will have yelled enough to draw attention to his predicament.

Nobody goes near the machine room below while the stage is in use, after a nasty accident many years below that almost saw the Palermo shut down.

And at any rate, the box is soundproofed. 

Once the show is over, all Jared has to do is use a trolley to put the box in his van, with the rest of his equipment, and then drive everything home.

++

It’s something of a surprise to find Jensen is still so stubborn.

He struggles despite the straitjacket, despite Jared warning him that a certain level of behaviour was expected, required.

But in truth, there’s a part of him that loves to see Jensen struggle.

Jared’s basement is full of things that will encourage that in him.

Like the piece he’s threatening Jensen with just then, pushing his wheel chair (the jacket has extra straps that fit around the back of the chair, and Jensen’s ankles are strapped to the leg rests) up towards it, smiling when Jensen tries to strain away even though he has no place to go.

“Houdini’s most famous trick,” Jared says. “More a feat of skill than an illusion. Of course, only the most experienced escapologists would even attempt something so risky.”

He leans down to whisper in Jensen’s ear. “I’m going to enjoy watching you struggling in there, trying to hold your breath, staring out at me through the glass. Wondering when I’ll swoop in and rescue you. I will, of course, just like I’ll rescue you from every single one of those horrible contraptions. Of course, whether that’s before you pass out or after, depends on you.”

“Somebody’ll come for me,” Jensen says. “You can’t get away with this, dammit!”

And then Jared hears his doorbell again. Jensen starts yelling like before, even though Jared’s told him the room is soundproofed.

He duct tapes his mouth again, anyway, just in case, and also because there’s something so pretty about his desperation as he pants through his nose and looks so hatefully at his captor.

Jared goes back upstairs, locking the door again, and finds the same shabby suited detective one more on his doorstop.

He opens the door, has to try a little harder to be nice this time.

“Yes.”

“I’m really sorry to disturb you, sir,” the detective says. “But you know, something just came to me when I was driving back to the precinct, and I thought…. Maybe I could come in, and you could just clear it up for me.”

Jared hesitates. There’s something about this man that sets off warning bells in his head, but he’s been very careful.

He’s way smarter than this policeman who can’t afford a decent suit.

“Of course.” He steps back, opens the door, lets the man in.


End file.
